


The Misadventures of an Unpaid Mechanic

by Mooncactus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, i promise the tags are accurate, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooncactus/pseuds/Mooncactus
Summary: “It’s been in worse scrapes than this,” she says, jutting out her chin. “I’m sure you can fix it.”Saneys very very highly doubts that. As if to prove his point, something falls off and clatters to the ground, and everyone flinches at the sound.





	The Misadventures of an Unpaid Mechanic

**Author's Note:**

> once more, i promise the tags are accurate. :D
> 
> \-- aaanyway, thank you for holly for reading over and stanning my weird mechanic oc. I'm really enjoying this unprecedented writing streak I have going on, so ty ty ty rian "reylo" johnson.

The girl is still crying when the mechanic walks down the ship’s boarding ramp, covering his mouth with a oilcloth to protect against the smoke still steaming out of the ships every port. The air, hot and ashy, almost brings tears to Saneys’s eyes, but he keeps it together. He ducks his head to look over where he can hear the same sniffling that had accompanied him as he entered the ship. Tears run twin tracks down the girls cheeks as she trembles against her friend, who has wrapped a solidary arm around her shoulders. 

Saneys stands at the edge of the boarding ramp and wipes the sweat off his forehead with his oilcloth. The girls are nestled under the cover of a metal shelter, protecting them from the planet’s slightly acidic rain, their boots splashed with mud. The acid is less abrasive on his skin then theirs, but Saneys still jogs across the expanse of land until he reaches the covering.

The girls look up, blinking, and the weepy one wipes her eyes with her palms, her bottom lip quivering. She meets his eyes with a silent question.

Saneys braces for the inevitable, and then wets his lips. “It won’t ever fly again.”

The girl starts _wailing,_ a loud, a the-universe-is-breaking-apart kind of sound. It makes Saneys wince and want to cover his ear flaps.

Her friend pulls her arm away and sighs, resting her hand on her chin in thought. “Well, maybe your mom can--” 

“I,” says the first girl, “can’t,” she inhales a big choking gasp between each word, “tell, my, _mother!_ ” Then she bellows again, like a foghorn through the mist on Cato Neimoidia.

Her companion sighs again, and meets Saneys’s eyes. The girls are about fourteen, maybe fifteen years old - fully grown, on Saneys’s home planet. In his culture, all these childish tears would be unsightly behavior for someone her age. But, of course, things are different in this system. He _is_ surprised to see humans of their age all on their own - especially flanked by a massive, completely wrecked ship - but if there’s anything Saneys has learned, it’s that he still has plenty _to_ learn.

Saneys puts his oilcloth in one of his coveralls massive pockets, and watches the girls as one attempts, very futilely, to comfort the other.

The friend is pretty in a way her sobbing companion ... isn’t. Her black hair tied back to show a studious expression on her symmetrical, wide face. Around her neck is a pendant - Haysian smelt, if Saneys’s eyes are right. (And they almost always are.) She looks like she’s smart, hardworking, and very used to having to wait out sobs.

Saneys can’t tell if the hysterical girl is naturally weird looking, or her blotchy crying face is making her features seem off kilter. Her hair is in an elaborate braided style that’s coming free of its pins - one braid hung around her face, whipping around whenever she moved.

They’re both wearing clear jackets with hoods to protect from the rain. Beneath that, they’re both dressed practically in tunics and trousers that were designed for functionality over high fashion. Still, though, they’re made of fine material, and the crying one’s iridescent white top is similar to some of the fashions Saneys has seen in the capital city. She wears a bronze armband around her bicep, bracelets of polished gold and worn thread around her wrists and two or three rings on each hand, all signs of wealth that had made him much more eager to help out when he received her holocall.

There isn’t a scratch on either of them, which is a miracle, with the sorry state this ship is in.

The girls were putting out a fire in the cockpit when he arrived, utterly baffled by the colossal piece of scrap metal in front of him. It had crashed only a half an hour beforehand, but Saneys’s surprised it’s even flew in the last decade. Truthfully, he thinks that they might have actually been better off calling one of the priestesses that allegedly live in this forest. He’s a good mechanic, but nothing could save this ship short of a miracle.

Saneys pulls his datapad out one of his pockets, and wonders what’s to do next. He can’t charge the girls for fixing the ship, because there’s nothing _to_ fix. His consultation fees were hourly based, and analyzing this wreck had taken about two minutes, and that was only because he was desperately trying to find if there was _something_ to salvage about it. It’s a disappointment to him that it’s irremediable, because he could really use the credits he’d get for repairs on this scale.

“There’s nothing to be done,” he says, giving the ship a long, sad lookover. “If you want to salvage the ship for parts, you better act fast before the whole thing goes down in smoke.”

The girl stands up, her eyes flaring in anger. “What do you mean, _nothing_? You’re supposed to be the best mechanic on this entire planet _and_ its moons.” Her friend stands a half second later, putting a hand on her arm, but she wrestles it away. 

Saneys is almost flattered by the compliment, but the girl stands a full head taller than both he and her companion, and the combined effect of her height and rage is bizarrely intimidating. “Thank you, miss, but I’m surprised this ship even flew at all.”

“It’s been in worse scrapes than this,” she says, jutting out her chin. “I’m _sure_ you can fix it.”

Saneys very very highly doubts that. As if to prove his point, something falls off and clatters to the ground, and everyone flinches at the sound.

The other girl twirls her pendant around her finger. “I _did_ tell you I should be flying.” 

“But I wanted to,” the crying one replies, and sniffs, wiping away snot with a beleaguered handkerchief.

“Well,” her friend begins, tone cautious. “We all kinda _knew_ something like this was gonna happen. You’ve been flying since you were six, and it always goes something like this.”

The girl stared at her, with a angry, betrayed expression, before burying her head and her hands and sobbing again, another braid loosening and falling down her back. “They’re going to be so _mad,”_ she howls, shoulders shaking.

Sighing, the calm one stands and strides over to Saneys on the opposite end of the shelter. “I’ll sign the paperwork,” she says, tone businesslike. “I’m so sorry about this. Thank you for coming by.”

He hands over his datapad and she clicks through the agreement page, signing _Paige Tico_ with the stylus in big, clear letters. She’s reading through his fees page, probably thinking the same thing he was - how do you pay a mechanic when they haven’t actually done anything? - and his gaze returns to the other girl.

Who is still crying.

Something like fatherly compassion breaks through Saneys’s irritation. It’s hard to see anyone cry like that. Especially when it’s a miracle that this ship even lasted this long. _It’ll be okay,_ he thinks. _They’ll forgive you._

“But it’s _not_ okay,” she says, suddenly, and Saneys reels, wondering if had accidentally spoken out loud. But she’s not even looking at him, staring ahead with her face all scrunched up.

“How long have you been a mechanic?” Paige asks, and Saneys snaps to attention.

“Thirty years,” he answers. “Since I was a slave on Cantonica.”

“Oh,” she says, dark eyes widening. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, I was lucky it was something I ended up being passionate about, even after I was freed. I’m happy to be here,” he says, “although I do miss my home planet, sometimes.”

“Cantonica?” 

He shakes his head. “Ellek. I haven’t gone back, nonetheless. Even after the war I don’t feel...” he sighs. “Too many bad memories. I’m sure you understand understand, being from Hays Minor.”

She blinks, surprised, and he gestures at her necklace, a metal only found on a planet best known for mining rare metals - and children. 

“You’re like me,” he said, shoving his hands in the extra deep pockets at his hips. “Decided it was better to move on. See the rest of the galaxy.”

Paige looks thoughtful. “That’s very deep, for a mechanic covered in mud.”

Saneys smiles. “I get a lot of take out that comes with “words of wisdom” printed on the receipts.” 

“That’s not helpful, Luke,” the girls snaps at the thin air, and Paige shrugs at Saneys when he whips around to stare at her friend, baffled.

“That happens, sometimes. You learn to ignore it.” Still, Saneys can’t look away. He thought the girl was just immature - he wonders, now, if there’s something seriously wrong with her.

“Maybe I will run away,” the girl sneers, continuing her imaginary conversation. “Somewhere where you can’t all appear out of the blue to _lecture me constantly.”_

“And how, exactly,” Paige calls out, crossing her arms, “are you going to run away without a ship?”

The girl opens her mouth and then shuts it, pursing her lips. “I’ll figure it out. It’d be better than having to deal with how my family is going to react. Wren is going to be insufferable.”

Paige looked baffled, shaking her head. “What? Your twin is always understanding. She _always_ takes your side.”

She stomps her foot. “Yes, because she’s _sooooo_ perfect,” she says, bitterly, “perfect sister with a perfect temper, and a perfect Jed--”

Paige rapidly shakes her head, gesturing with her head back at Saneys. Her friend shuts her mouth.

“Look,” Paige says, trying for compromising. “Let’s call your dad. He won’t be mad, and your family - and mine - has probably figured out something’s wrong by now.”

Her friend takes a deep breath, filling her cheeks, and then lets it out, very, very slowly. “Fiiiine,” she says, and then adjusts her hood and runs up out of the shelter and into the ships boarding ramp.

“Wait!” Saneys cries after her. “It isn’t safe--”

“She’ll be fine,” Paige says, shaking her head. “Trust me.”

He watches, stunned, as she emerges with a comm a minute later, once again not a scratch on her. She’s talking into it rapidly, clearly fighting tears, but, hey, as long as she’s not sobbing again, Saneys is pleased. And a little impressed with the girl’s bravery - he only entered that ship because he was expecting a hefty sum.

He waits for her to reemerge with increasing anxiety, and wonders if her bravery had been closer to recklessness. Or “stupidity”.

He quickly realizes he’ll have to stay put until the father arrives. Not only does he not trust the girls alone with a ship that could really blow at any moment - especially when they _keep running into it,_ he’ll need a proper ship to comm a ride back to his apartment on the planet’s moon. He sighs. It’s unspeakably embarrassing, to be a mechanic without a ship of his own, and everyone else in his guild mocked him mercilessly for it after a member found him in a rideshare speeder one afternoon. Maybe her father will give him a ride, and he’d accept that as payment...

“Her family is all criers,” Paige says, suddenly. “That’s where she gets it from. Apparently her parents cried at _my_ birth.”

Saneys blinks. Members of his species only have a tear duct in the left eye - it was garnered _that_ unnecessary for them to cry regularly. Part of him wonders if it would be easier to have that sort of easy emotional release, especially shared with family… he’s always hidden his saddest moments away.

“My dad never cries,” Paige continues, and adds, sadly, “I don’t think they ever let him, when he was a kid.”

He doesn’t wonder who “they” is. Everyone has a they where he came from.

The other girl slips her comm into her pocket and exhales, shakily. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes.” She stands next to Paige, and squints at Saneys. “Why are you still here?”

“I figured I should… wait,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “You know, so your father and I can look over the ship together.”

The girl huffs. “Fine.”

“You know,” Saneys says, slowly, kindly. “I have siblings…”

“I don’t ca--” she starts, and Paige immediately elbows her in the ribs.

“Don’t be a grouch,” Paige says. “Saneys is nice.”

The mechanic shoots Paige a grateful look, and she gives him a I-swear-she’s-not-always-this-bad look back.

“I had a lot of pressure from my parents and siblings too,” he says, continuing. “You’ll be grateful for it when you’re older. It means they care. Better yet, it means they believe in you.”

The girl sighs, blowing a strand of her out of her face. “I know. And I know they love me. It doesn’t make disappointing them any less scary.”

She must have been very loved indeed, to be this much of a brat. Bizarrely, Saneys finds himself wishing the same for any of his potential children.

She unclips a bottle from one of the many clips hanging off her belt, and offers it to Saneys. “Water?”

He accepts it with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, the girl stands up, and starts peering off into the horizon. It takes another five minutes before Saneys can see anything - he must be getting old, if his eyes are already starting to fail him.

A sleek black ship skims over the trees and lands like a dream a hundred feet in front of them. Saneys finds himself instantly understanding the despair the girl feels over crashing, if this is her father’s flying abilities. The ship, though, is a beauty, and Saneys has to shove his hands back in his pockets to resist the urge to sprint over and run his hands over its smooth surfaces. The hatch opens up and a very large man pulls himself out, ignoring the acidic rain as he runs at full speed towards their shelter.

He reaches them in second and immediately embraces the taller girl. “Breha, are you hurt?”

She’s squished in his grip. “I’m f-fine, Dad.”

Even if he had spotted these two in a crowd at random, Saneys could immediately tell that they’re kin. She’s nearly his height, and they’ve got the same thick, nearly black hair and pale complexion. That being said, Saneys finds himself adjusting his less-than-kind assessment of the girls appearance when presented her father. She’s definitely prettier.

He’s got a big nose, a wicked scar down the right side of his face, and a strangely uneven jaw. They share the same unfortunately large ears, though, and Saneys has to admit that his hair, even though it’s starting to grey, is very nice. He wishes he had hair.

The girl’s father cups her face in his large hands, both gloved, a thumb wiping a fat tear away as it rolls down her cheek. Verifying that she wasn’t physically injured, he turns to Paige and gives her a less intense but similarly worried lookover. He looks even paler next to her dark brown skin. Something about him strikes Saneys as bizarrely _important,_ like he's royalty or something.

“I’m fine,” Paige chirps. “Breha took care of me.”

He nods, at ease, and then _finally_ turns to look at the ship, like he hadn’t even noticed it was there with his concern for the girls.

“Oh,” he says.

Breha sniffles.

The man lets out a long breath. “That is… worse than I expected.”

“This is Saneys,” Paige says, pointing a thumb in the mechanics direction. “We heard he could fix anything--”

“Almost anything,” Saneys clarifies. “Things that _can_ be fixed.”

The man nods absent-mindedly at this. “How did you two survive that crash?” he asks, tilting his head.

“How do you think?” Breha replies. Her father blinks.

“I think she kept us aloft for the last few minutes of the crash, with…” Paige waggles her hands. “Hey!” she says, brightly, like she just came up with something. “That kinda counts, doesn’t it? You can fly … in a way.”

“Thanks,” Breha says, flatly.

“That is impressive,” the man admits, somewhat begrudgingly. “That’s not a skill I ever wished you’d have to use, but that’s … well, not something I could do at your age.”

Saneys has no idea what the hell they’re talking about, but Breha looks somewhat cheered at the sentiment.

“Do you mind?” the man says, addressing Saneys and gesturing towards the ship.

“Not at all,” Saneys says. “I’m sure you know it better than I do.”

He strips off his gloves and hands them to his daughter, who sniffs as she holds them, seemingly relieved to be given a task besides sitting there and crying. Saneys is relieved, too, because he can feel a headache coming on. With his hands bare, Saneys is surprised to see his right hand is mechanical - and of an incredible build. He wishes to examine it, but there’s obviously no way to make the request as he clambers up into the ship. He reemerges, coughing, a few minutes later.

“ _Definitely_ not,” he says, shaking his head. His daughter’s forehead crumples, but she doesn’t start wailing again, _thank the Maker._

“Breha,” he says, gently. “It’s fine. It was going to happen eventually. It was junk a decade before _I_ was born.”

“Yeah,” she sniffs, “but it’s a family heirloom, and I wrecked years and years of history in about two minutes flat. It’s been through wars, and it’s how your parents met, and how Mom and Uncle Finn--”

She keeps going. Saneys wonders what, exactly, _is_ this ship. By its make, he had thought it was just some ancient smuggling freighter. He eyes her father’s mechanical hand again. The make is absolutely beautiful, the best money can buy, but the repairs done on it are with cruder material. Similarly, his wedding ring on his other hand looks like it was made from a piece of scrap metal, or even repurposed from some sort of weapon.

“To be entirely honest, I’ve hated that ship longer than I’ve liked it,” the man admits, bringing Saneys focus back. “Although you and your sister were probably conceived--”

“ _Dad,_ ” his daughter protests immediately, face flushing again.

“You’re the one talking about its significance in our history,” he responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Ugh,” is all Breha says in response, but Saneys notices she doesn’t seem like she’s going to cry again.

“Breha,” her father says, hands on her shoulders. “You’re not a pilot.”

She recoils. “But--”

“You’re never _going_ to be a pilot.”

“I _have_ to be,” she protests. “You, mom, Luke, Grandpa, _great_ Grandpa, even great Grandma -- all esteemed pilots!”

“Well,” he says, voice flat. “You’re not.”

She sticks her lower lip out, like she’s about to start up again, and Saneys winces. Luckily, her father seems to realize the same thing.

“No,” he says. “It’s not worth the tears. Your sister can’t fly either, and she’s fine with that--”

“Oh,” Breha scoffs. “Of course she is, because Wren is always _so_ mature, about absolutely everything.”

“Breha,” he says, and she just huffs.

“Can we please just wait to tell mom, at least?”

“Ah,” says her father. “About that.”

His daughter looks at him in horrified betrayal. “You didn’t.”

“I had to,” he says. “We were already connected when I landed. She’ll be here any minute.”

Saneys frowns. He can’t see a comm anywhere on his person. Did he leave it in the ship…?

It doesn’t take long until a colossal towing ship is clearing the trees, and they all watch in slack jawed awe as the giant ship lands in front of them, shaking the ground and sending the girls raincoats and the man’s black robe fluttering in the air. He keeps an arm around Breha as the ship settles in, loud as anything Saneys has ever heard. 

Before it’s even finished disembarking, the gangplank snaps down onto the ground, and a woman in grey barrels down it and straight for the shelter. While she’s running, a loading dock opens up from the opposite side of the ship.

“Of all the reckless things,” she barks, pointing a finger at Breha, and even Saneys flinches. She’s beautiful, with brown hair swept off her face and into a knot at the back of her head. She wears grey robes, a staff on her back. On her finger is a wedding ring, as crudely crafted as her husband’s. Saneys thinks she might actually be younger than him - surely too young to be mother to a nearly grown girl. She looks lovely even while furious.

“You’re grounded,” she says. “No leaving the base for the next month -- I can’t believe you endangered Paige, do you _know_ how worried Finn is?”

“But, Mom,” Breha whines, as Paige offers up a “I’m perfectly fine!”

“Rey,” the man says softly, an arm still around his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t you think that--”

“Oh, I don’t want to hear it,” the woman huffs, significantly shorter than the rest of her family - but still taller than Saneys. “Parent our child, Ben.”

“She’s upset,” Ben protests, standing straighter so he looms even more over her. “We need to give her some leniency.”

“So the next time she flies she can get Paige -- or _Wren --_ killed?”

“Mom,” Breha says, voice devoid of its early whine, now just sad and grimly serious. “I won’t try to fly again.” 

And then she swallows hard, fighting back tears.

“Oh,” the mother says, and something breaks through her frustration. She grimaces. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, that’s not what I -- no, you can fly again--”

“No, she can not,” says Paige, Ben, and Saneys.

Rey blinks at the mechanic, as if noticing him for the first time. It strikes Saneys that, like her husband, she seems vaguely familiar. No, strike that, he’s _definitely_ seen her face on a holo before. A model? An actress? She doesn’t seem like the type, with the humble robes and arm wraps.

Rey takes a deep breath. “We’ll… we’ll deal with this later. I’m still mad,” she says, and then goes up on her toes to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “But I love you. Now. Let’s get this piece of junk loaded.”

“Wait,” Saneys says, “I don’t know if that’s wise, there’s still a fire in the cockpit…”

Rey peers at him, and then back at her family, and seems to make a decision. That decision is apparently waving her hand in the direction of the ship, and--

And the smoke _stops._ Just curls up and dissipates into nothingness mid air.

Saneys jaw drops. She’s Force sensitive.

“C’mon,” she says, gesturing towards the tall ones. “That’s a damn good hyperdrive, I’m not going to lose it.” They march over to the ship, Rey having to half jog to keep up with their long legged strides. Saneys and Paige share a look, and then sprint after them. Saneys wonders how they’ll load the ship in without a tractor beam.

They come to a halt and study the wrecked ship. Breha gives a little shiver.

Rey studies one of the ship’s cracked escape pods and shudders. “Still remember feeling like I was in a coffin.”

“Well,” her husband says, “you looked beautiful.”

Rey gives him a look, which Saneys assumes is in response to a very very long story.

“Breha, I’ll need a hand…”

Breha nods, and the two of them take a deep breath, hands clasped together. Their free hands lift in the air, and they--

The freighter begins to lift off the ground.

Saneys reels, looking at Ben and Paige standing opposite him. He realizes Ben is watching his wife and daughter dutifully, one hand lifted -- he’s keeping the acidic rain off of all of them.

They’re _all_ Force sensitive.

He realizes his mouth is wide open (ready to catch flies, his mother would have said) when Ben turns to him and smiles.

“If her sister was here, the four of us could probably keep it aloft for another decade.”

Saneys just shakes his head in disbelief. Miracles, indeed …

The freighter is loaded, and the door shuts behind it. Rey claps her hands like they’ve been dirtied, and then places them on her hips. It occurs to Saneys then - maybe it was the heroic pose, or maybe it’s the staff, now more clearly visible on her back - that this is Rey. _The_ Rey. Acclaimed _Jedi_ Rey. Hero of the resistance, freer of slaves, destroyer of the First Order Rey. He had heard she had gone into exile or hiding like her mentor, Luke Skywalker before her, but here she is -- daughter and husband and… goddaughter, he’d assume, in tow.

He just keeps shaking his head. She notices his expression, and grins, seemingly pleased to be recognized. Saneys gives her husband another look over, but he's definitely not any one he knows from the stories. Bizarrely, he looks just as pleased as his wife does that he  _can't_ recognize him.

“How much do we owe you, Mr…” Rey begins.

He provides “Saneys,” instinctively, and then blinks. “Oh, I don’t -- it’s fine, I’m honored, really.”

“Really?” she says, tilting her head. “We don’t mind, I have…” she digs into her pockets, frowns, and then grabs her husband, who doesn’t protest, and digs into _his_ pockets. “Aha,” she says, pulling a wallet out. “We have credits,” she says, holding it in the air.

“It’s fine,” Saneys says, again. “I didn’t do anything. 

“He kept me from going completely bantha-shit,” Breha says, to his surprise. “We have to do something for you, Saneys.”

“Well…” he trails off. “... Reviews on my holonet page, uh, are really the best way to get business.”

Paige nods. “That’s how we heard about you. We’ll leave you reviews, all four of us. Would that be okay?”

Saneys nods, still dazed. Imagine, he thinks, a business card with a glowing review from the legendary Jedi...!

“Okay,” Rey says, reluctantly. “If you’re sure.”

“Can I have my wallet back?” Ben asks demurely, placing his giant hand on his wife’s waist.

“You’ll have to fight me for it.”

“Oh, really?” he says, tilting his head. “I thought we were long past fighting over things that belong to me.”

Rey scoffs in outraged disbelief. “That lightsaber was _never_ yours--”

He kisses her, right there, in front of all of them, like two school aged sweethearts. She wraps her arms around him as he dips her lower.

Saneys is surprised Breha only has one sister.

“Ew,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Saneys, how are you going to get home?”

Saneys blinks again. “Oh. I don’t know. I…” He hesitates, but really, the entire situation has been so dreamlike, he can’t really find the usual embarrassment over admitting his lack of ship. “Actually, I usually just… call a rideshare speeder.”

“You don’t have a ship?” Rey says, no longer lip locked with her husband, a v shaped crease between her eyebrows.

Saneys shakes his head. “I’ve been saving, but with rent and…” he trails off, not sure why he’s talking about his monthly rent with a renowned Jedi. Actually, come to think about it, he’s sure her husband is someone famous too - he now recognizes what must be a lightsaber hilt at his belt. But who was named  _Ben_ in the war?

Said husband is looking over at his ship, and then back at the mechanic. “Do you want that?”

Saneys stares at him, slack jawed. “The _ship?”_

“Yes,” Ben says, matter-of-factly. “It’s brand new. I was planning on giving it to her..." He gestures an open palm at his daughter. “...But that clearly is a terrible idea. It’s yours, if you’d like.”

Saneys knows he should probably refuse it - it’d be the polite thing to do, it’s way too much for a gift, but…

Oh, it’s _beautiful._

“I would be eternally grateful,” he says, remembering to bow. This makes Ben grimace, for some reason. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for looking after my daughter and her best friend,” he says. “A ship does not equal a tenth of the gratitude I owe you.” 

\--

Saneys waves cheerfully from the ship’s opened hatch as he clambers in, the four others waving back, big smiles on their faces. Saneys still feels like he’s going to wake up from a dream any moment. Master Rey, her Jedi husband and daughter, and even Paige was sure to be a very competent business woman or politician one day. He nods to himself. What a wonderful, exciting day.

As he closes the hatch, something finally clicks in his mind. If her mother is Rey, that means the ship Breha wrecked was the…

Oh. 

Saneys finds himself shedding a few tears of his own as he starts up the ship and flies home. What a ending for a such an important piece of history, he ponders. And to think, he got to actually go inside the legendary Millennium Falcon...


End file.
